


Weeks, Days, Minutes, Moments

by lanagotconed20



Series: Road Trip [6]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanagotconed20/pseuds/lanagotconed20
Relationships: Korra & Asami Sato, Korra/Asami Sato
Series: Road Trip [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136540
Comments: 22
Kudos: 143





	Weeks, Days, Minutes, Moments

It was the way Asami scrunched her nose up when she truly smiled - and she was starting to notice that those smiles were mostly reserved for her.

It was the soft kisses on Korra’s forehead at seemingly random moments, like when she walked past Korra on her way to do something else, unable to not acknowledge her in some way.

It was the way she could name almost every constellation when they laid out under the stars, pointing Korra’s fingers to the right place, guiding her hand as she traced it in the sky.

It was the way her hair was in complete disarray after she came back from a morning run, small curls framing her face, unruly compared to its normal perfection.

It was the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks, only visible when she wasn’t wearing her makeup, and how she was so self-conscious about them that Korra found the best way to reassure her of her beauty was to try to kiss each one.

It was the way that Asami always left lipstick on Korra’s face, but never once did she mind.

It was the way her natural reddish-brown highlights came out in her hair when they sat in the sun, the dark illuminated by streaks of soft color.

It was the way she snorted when she laughed too hard, then covered her face in embarrassment, and usually ended up snorting again because she can’t help but laugh at herself.

It was the spark in her eyes while she worked on an engine, covered in grease and grime, as she explained to Korra what she was doing and then getting carried away with the specifics, lost in her passion.

It was the way she melted into Korra’s hug when she walked in the door from work, molding their bodies together in the relief of coming home.

It was the way she bit her lip when she wanted a kiss, always too shy to ask and often too bashful to initiate.

It was the soft way she loved old sitcoms like _The Dick Van Dyke Show_ , spouting off random facts about them, like how Mary Tyler Moore was only allowed to wear pants for one scene per episode because of the “modesty” issue and how it was actually revolutionary for that time, then stopping herself when she realized she’d interrupted the show. Korra always asked what else she knew about it, genuinely showing interest in what she cared about. When it came to TV or Asami, Korra would choose her every time, and she found herself hanging on her every word.

It was the way she gravitated towards Korra during the evenings or weekends while she had some light work to catch up on, sitting on the living room floor with her materials spread out while Korra read a book on the couch, or sitting next to her on the porch swing with her laptop.

It was the way she sketched little doodles of cars, Naga, dancing flowers, suns with cheesy smiles and sunglasses, or the two of them, and left them around the house for Korra to find.

It was the way Asami pulled back to look into her eyes after they had been making out, smoothing the bangs out of her face, making Korra feel seen down to her soul, before kissing her all over again.

It was the way she got so giggly when Korra could convince her to have a second or third glass of wine, laughing if Korra even looked at her. The way Asami couldn’t seem to keep her hands off her didn’t hurt, either.

It was the way Korra discovered Asami’s different levels of focus - first a pursed lip, then a furrowed brow, then a pen twirled between her fingers, and finally an indignant squint if she was really frustrated with the problem.

In the weeks, the days, the minutes, the moments - Korra was falling in love.

———-

It was the way she smiled when the wind blew through the leaves in the trees, looking up at them but not saying anything about it - but Asami remembered Korra mentioning how the sound made her happy, and she made a point to not forget the things that made Korra happy.

It was the way she went out of her way to help people, even if it was just helping someone carry their groceries to their car.

It was the way that even while inside the house, Korra still moved to sit wherever the sun was shining through the window best, with a book or her phone, likely sending Asami silly memes.

It was the way she hummed while washing the dishes, the way she tapped her fingers to the beat of a song on the steering wheel, and the way she absolutely belted songs in the shower.

It was how she made Asami a pot of coffee in the mornings so it would be ready for her when she got up, always sitting out the prettiest cup for her.

It was the way her eyes looked in the sunlight, blues and greens and grays in infinite fractals, and how Asami often found herself getting lost studying them. She tried to be embarrassed for staring but could never quite bring herself to be.

It was the way Korra somehow always knew when she needed a break, coming into their home office to just talk to her, bring her a snack, or rub out the tension of her neck.

It was the way Korra cried during the first 10 minutes of _Up_ , brokenheartedly questioning the universe, “Who gave them the _right?_ ”

It was the way Asami would catch her softly smiling, and every time she would ask what she was thinking about, she would blush and say something like “just how your ears are the cutest” or “how soft your lips are” or “how your brain just amazes me” or “how lucky I am to have you.”

It was the way Korra was thoughtful in the small ways, like how she would leave a towel out for Asami’s shower, or slip encouraging notes in her purse when she had a big meeting, or how she always kept Reese’s cups in the house “in case of emergencies.”

It was the way Korra always offered her a bite of whatever she was eating, even if it was the last one.

It was the way she would run down the hallway and slide around the corner in her socks, sometimes going too fast and tumbling to the floor, unable to contain her laughter while she picked herself back up - but it never stopped her from doing it again.

It was how she talked so passionately about the sun as it was setting, noting how it colored everything around them differently, and how she could just look at the sky during the day and say with a smile, “we’ll have a good one this evening,” and rarely was she wrong.

It was the way she held her at night, trailing her fingers across Asami’s skin, grinning into the crook of her neck, whispering how much Asami meant to her when she thought she’d drifted off to sleep.

It was the way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was lost in thought, sometimes biting her thumbnail as she stared off into space.

It was the way she read books on topics she didn’t understand so she could better relate to others, like when Asami found _A Beginner’s Guide to Mechanics_ on the kitchen table by Korra’s bag.

It was how she got so annoyed with her bangs but never let them grow out, exasperatedly explaining the “love/hate” relationship she had with them every time Asami asked.

In the weeks, the days, the minutes, the moments - Asami was falling in love.


End file.
